Frozen in Time
by CrystallineX
Summary: Forced to watch all the people around her age and pass, Elsa chooses to abdicate and settle for a quiet life of managing an orphanage. That is until Jack Frost literally flies into her life. Much confusion ensues.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen.

A/N: This was another plot bunny that bothered me until I typed it up.

…

 **Frozen In Time**

…

 **Prologue:**

…

A little girl with bundles of matchsticks stood in the snow, looking lost and all alone. When the cold became too unbearable, she struck a match. Holding the small but warm flame to her face, she began to feel sleepy. She couldn't even go home, because her father would be angry that she hadn't sold any matches, and even _used_ one. Maybe after the matchstick burnt up, she could curl up in the snow and rest a bit; it was building up and it looked very soft and comfy…

"You must be cold, little one."

She whirled around, and saw a lady – dressed in a pale blue that almost blended in with the snow – looking at her kindly.

The girl automatically asked, "Would you like to buy a matchstick? Only a penny for a stick."

Smiling, the lady – she had blonde hair, a very pale blonde that also almost blended in with the snow – knelt to the girl's height and said, "I'll tell you what. I'll take all the bundles for a krone* each. I have a friend who likes warmth."

(*Danish version of the British crown)

The girl was taken aback. She had only asked out of habit. She hadn't even expected the stranger to actually buy a match, much less every bundle. And a whole krone! A bundle wasn't worth even a skilling. And a match was already burnt.

As the lady – she looked regal, almost as if she _belonged_ in the snow – handed her a handful of krones. The girl had barely glimpsed, much less ever _held_ a krone before in her life, and now she held a handful of them. She traded them for bundles of matches with fingers trembling not because of the cold, but from awe. The lady was so beautiful, and so unearthly, that the question, "Are you an angel?" tumbled from her lips.

If the lady's smile was beautiful before, it was dazzling now. "No, nothing like that, dear."

At this, the girl visibly deflated. "So you can't take me to heaven?"

The not-angel but still angelic lady's smile faded a bit. "I'm afraid that's beyond my ability." After a brief pause, she asked, "Do you want to go to heaven? Is that why you're standing out here, in this cold without even wearing shoes?"

"It's better than going back home." She looked down at the coins in her hand and reconsidered, mumbling mostly to herself, "Though these might stay his blows awhile."

If she'd been looking at the lady instead of the coins, she might've seen the lady's blue eyes harden with cold fury at the mention of abuse.

"Then would you like to come with me instead?" The lady's voice broke through the girl's dreaded line of thought of more bruises and breaks. "I can't take you to heaven, but I can take you to someplace where you won't get hurt. Where you won't have to be afraid." The lady stood up to her full height and held out a hand for the little girl to take.

The girl was tempted. Oh so very tempted, to let herself be whisked off by the fairy-like being.

So she gave in and took the lady's hand, oblivious when the lady made a perfect replica of her from ice, down to the bundles of matches and forgotten burnt match.

…

 **Chapter 1**

…

Elsa, formerly known as Queen Elsa of Arendelle, stood on the balcony of her ice palace thinking, for the umpteenth time, about her odd – to say the least – life. Initially, the only (she couldn't help but scoff at the word 'only,' as it had consumed her childhood with fear and isolation) strange thing about her had been her ice powers. But it hadn't stopped there.

At first, nobody noticed, least of all the ones who saw her daily. But a decade after she'd ascended the throne, she'd noticed the lack of difference between her image in the portrait as regent of Arendelle and her image in the mirror. She'd long since coaxed Anna and Kristoff sit in on council meetings, and was now strong-arming them into attending _every_ meeting, citing her reason as a vague, " _Just in case"._ Another decade later, she'd abdicated the throne to a more understanding Anna, who had been sufficiently prepared to inherit the throne by then.

Why had Elsa abdicated?

Because after freezing Arendelle over and subsequently gaining control of her powers by thawing the frozen country out, _she hadn't aged_. Sure, she'd felt that something was a little off, and had staved off marriage during the early stages of her reign by telling the council that it would be better off if the crown prince was her perfectly normal nephew, Jerrik. After all, they didn't want Arendelle to be alienated from other kingdoms because of a second generation of ice wielding rulers, did they?

No, Jerrik would be, and later was, officially named the crown prince.

Elsa didn't need to marry; having a sister, nephew, and brother-in-law were enough. But it was hard having to see them age while she stayed the same. Jerrik came to understand why his aunt never made public appearances anymore, even though she still helped behind the scenes. He understood when she didn't come out for his wedding, or come down to join the festivities in the ballroom.

But she'd still dined with her family in private, given them advice when they sought it, perhaps steered them in the right direction when Anna strayed a bit off course, but she'd been there for them. Right up until the new generation of servants, come to replace the old, started whispering of the Ice Witch.

Of her unnatural powers and unnatural youth.

All of Anna's attempts to stomp out the rumors were futile. The great Freezing, as the summer of Elsa's coronation had become known as, was legendary, and as soon as Elsa's 'eternal youth' was leaked out, the public would be crying for blood. As soon as Anna realized this, she had packed for Elsa what almost seemed like half the crown jewels and other unnecessary things one night. Elsa hadn't been sure whether to laugh or cry when she saw a jeweled scepter poking out of corner a very full and heavy bag.

"Go!" Anna had said, tears in her eyes and wrinkles more prominent than ever, "The rumors are getting out of hand, and… I'm afraid for you."

Elsa herself had been worried as well, and felt guiltily relieved and saddened that it was Anna who had been the one to make the decision for what was really her only choice. Tears pooling in her eyes as well, Elsa fiercely hugged her family and fled with Olaf to her ice castle that night.

From then on, she kept an eye on the royal family – _her_ family – and faithfully brought a controlled winter to Arendelle like clockwork. Not too harsh, but not too weak either, in deference to Kristoff's background. Not too short, not too long. Just right.

She suffered through devastating times when Anna died, and Kristoff not long afterward. She could only watch from the crowd as the funeral procession took place in the sweltering heat of August 14th, and whilst the crowd mourned the passing of their ruler, Elsa mourned for her once bright and caring younger sister. Anna would not be around to care for her when she caught a summer cold. Not anymore.

Decades passed, and after her nephew and his children fell victim to time, Elsa fell into a familiar pattern, exchanging meaningless chatter with Olaf as she carried out another meaningless day, withdrawn into herself once more, not daring to get close to her sister's descendants – not that she even could – because in what seemed like a blink of an eye, they grew old, while she remained the same.

But Elsa grew restless, and she eventually took to wandering around in the winters of Arendelle and neighboring countries, making sure nobody was out and about getting frostbitten.

On one New Year's Eve, she had come upon a girl trying to sell matches, not wanting to go home because her father beat her. It had to have been so cold, and the little girl was dressed in rags, but she had practically said that she'd rather die than go back 'home'.

It was then and there that Elsa decided that no children would be lonely or isolated or live out anything remotely reminiscent of her own childhood. Not under her watch.

She'd temporarily left the child at Oaken's (or rather his successor's) sauna to recover, and created (more humanoid) snow men to build a sturdy house at the foot of the mountain for the little girl – she couldn't well live in the ice palace, not after all she'd been through on New Year's Eve.

The child would need warmth; so the house would be crafted of wood.

Though the process was nowhere near as quick as Elsa with her own ice palace, the cabin was built with relative ease and swiftness.

It had been so long since Elsa had been seen that nobody recognized her even when she wandered about the markets with a rented sleigh being pulled by rented horses. It was freeing, in a way, Elsa thought as a shopkeeper helped her load an armchair amongst other furniture and furnishings that the cabin would need. She even bought several knick-knacks she hoped a child would like. A snowglobe, a doll, and several games that included a puzzle, a deck of cards, and a wooden block set. Not to forget a pen and several sheaves of paper, as well as learning books. She didn't know whether the girl could read or not, but as long as she was under Elsa's care, education was not to be neglected.

Then came the moment of truth. Clothing.

She'd made an ice sculpture of the girl when they'd left Denmark, so Elsa could more or less accurately judge what size her dress should be. But it was the material she fretted over. Organza, the fabric closest to the light blue outfit Elsa's iconic dress most certainly wouldn't be warm enough, but on the other hand, thick brocade just wasn't practical to move around in. She took a cursory glance about the crowd and wasn't surprised at the lack of cotton clothing – a favorite in the other seasons. She thought back many years to what Kristoff had been wearing when she'd first met him. Wool? Leather? Furs? Keeping that in mind, she chose a fur-lined coat with matching boots and thick socks. With a distinct fondness, Elsa held up a green woolen dress. Green would always be a color she associated with Anna. Of course, she didn't forget the necessary white shifts and dressing gowns as well as underclothing and several other changes of clothes. Paying for it all, she tipped the bulky packages into a sleigh with the pile of furniture.

The sleigh, with its haphazard pile of luggage, looked like a parody of what Elsa imagined Father Christmas' sleigh would look like, full of presents for children. Sighing with nostalgia over long past days filled with laughter and innocence, Elsa hopped onto the sleigh and whistled for the rented horses to go, directing them toward the nearly completely built cabin.

That evening, Elsa went to Oaken's shop to pick up the girl.

Shyly, the girl greeted her. "Hello." She was currently practically swimming in an overlarge shirt.

"Hello to you too, Aimee." Elsa smiled. "Would you like to see what I've brought for you?"

With each article of clothing Elsa laid out, the girl's eyes grew rounder and rounder. Finally, when Elsa held up the pair of boots, her eyes began to tear up.

"Is this all… for me?"

Elsa smiled softly. "There's more, but we have to go home first."

After all this time, the word 'home' sounded foreign on Elsa's lips, but the child needed a home, so it wouldn't hurt to leave her Ice Palace for a few decades to provide Aimee with one.

Elsa's ice sleigh (she'd returned the rental sleigh and horses) pulled to a stop in front of the now finished and furnished cabin, courtesy of Elsa's hard-working snowmen, who seemed to have gone outside to enjoy the cold.

They were greeted by a certain snowman. "Surprise! You're Aimee, right? Elsa told me about you and I couldn't wait to meet you!"

Elsa continued to smile, but inwardly groaned as Aimee's jaw dropped at the sight of Olaf. How was she going to explain to Aimee that she kept a talking snowman around?

But to her surprise, Aimee just looked on with childlike wonder – of course, she _was_ a child – and began to play with Olaf.

With some encouragement on Olaf's part, Aimee opened up; and while Elsa had a good idea of what Aimee's past was like, she knew better than to dredge up old wounds. Her new motto was: focus on the present. And for a child uneducated for her whole life, the girl was smart and a quick study. She knew basic maths quite well from selling matches, but had to learn and adjust to Arendelle's currency, to buy groceries and a new carrot to replace Olaf's nose whenever his current nose started to wilt.

Over the years, they'd had to expand the cabin, as Elsa had brought more children – mostly orphans – neglected and in the cold. This was mostly during winters, but occasionally during other seasons.

One day, she brought a brother and sister named Hansel and Gretel. She'd been appalled to see them wandering around in a forest (nevermind that she had been wandering in the forest as well) and had purportedly been abandoned by their parents because they were not-so-slowly starving. Taking pity on them (not to mention burning with righteous anger) after hearing their tale, she'd decided to take them into her motley family.

But no matter how well the siblings got along with the other children, they always seemed unhappy, and Elsa discovered that they wanted to return to their father. After asking them for the third time whether they were sure if they wanted to return to their parents, she'd sighed and given them some of her trinkets that could be sold for money and sent them off with strict instructions for her snow men to keep the two children safe.

All too soon for Elsa, a decade had passed and Aimee was seventeen, being courted by a merchant's son, with other children at varying stages of their teenage years.

The older children had noticed that Elsa didn't age, but hadn't asked her about it, realizing that it had to be a touchy subject, as their teacher and caretaker always seemed somewhat sad, especially near mid-August.

When Aimee came to her waggling a large ring on her finger, so reminiscent of Anna, Elsa wasn't sure if her fluttering heart was filled with emotions of joy or despair. Her children – she had really come to see all the children she'd rescued as hers – were growing up, and even if she still brought home at least one new child every winter, the older kids were now ready to live their own lives, armed with the knowledge, be it maths, politics, history, art, or the languages she'd taught them; they were prepared to go out into the world.

But Elsa knew she couldn't keep the children – now adults – forever, so she held back her tears and clapped politely at Aimee's wedding as Peter – a boy who had cried wolf one too many times and had been chased out of the village and been on the verge of freezing to death – walked the bride down the isle in place of the bride's father.

And so the years went on, and Elsa continued to carry out her mission to save children who were abandoned and/or freezing, and Olaf his mission to play with them while she raised and taught them.

Sometimes, when she had to get away from all the hullaballoo, she left one of the older children in charge and basically _fled_ to her Ice Palace, where she visited Marshmallow and all the other little ones she had inadvertently created on Anna's birthday almost two centuries ago. And here she was, dressed in 21st Century clothes of jeans with just a touch of the fashion back from her own time: a tunic top. Yes, she knew it was what men had worn, but what was the difference now? Currently, she ran what was called Arendelle Orphanage, though the upkeep was quite expensive, what with taxes and all. She missed the good old days where people just took her word for who she said she was and not have to forge a new identity every few decades. Which was getting rather hard, come to think of it, as technology was progressing very quickly.

Elsa shook her head at the thought of hacking into her own (distant) successors' system.

Olaf, since the beginning of the founding of Arendelle Orphanage (officially est. 1914) was a well-kept secret among the children. Elsa's powers most children didn't even know about.

But after two centuries, she still didn't understand why it was her. Why her? Why have her live for an indeterminate (she preferred not to think of it as 'forever') period of time?

Staring at an incidentally full moon, she asked aloud in frustration, "Why! Why am I like this? Is this punishment for freezing Anna? Am I doomed to live an eternity alone?"

She felt a stick touch her forearm. "You're not alone Elsa. You've got me." Elsa almost shed tears at this. "And Marshmallow. And Sludge and Slush and Slide and Ansel and – " when Olaf proceeded to name all of what he perceived as his little brothers (A/N: from Frozen Fever), Elsa tuned him out.

 _But I just want to find someone like me. A human,_ she thought, staring at the looming moon, when a bitter afterthought occurred to her. _If I'm even human anymore._

…

A/N: I wanted to get past the caveat restricting an Elsa and Jack pairing. So I kind of cheated. Hey, it's not too unreasonable that Elsa would gain immortality after gaining control of her powers, right? Even if it is, oh well.

Plus, I thought original!Elsa living in modern times would be cool to see.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or Rise of the Guardians.

A/N: Enter Jack Frost, stage left.

…

 **Frozen in Time**

…

 **Chapter 2**

…

A certain white haired spirit was flying around with his staff, wondering where to bring the winter and fun next. Australia sounded like a tempting option, as the southern hemisphere was long overdue for a winter. Besides, he loved pissing Bunnymund off, even after he had become a fellow Guardian.

Should he take the fastest route or the scenic one?

Just when he'd decided to take the fastest one – he couldn't wait to bring snow – the wind decided to take him along the scenic route.

"Hey, wait, what! I don't want – " Jack was dismayed that the wind didn't listen to his protests and still took him on the 'scenic' – meander through basically all of Europe – route. Though slightly annoyed with the wind, Jack reluctantly let the wind take him where it may. And after a while, he fervently thanked his lucky snowflakes that the wind hadn't listened to him.

Nestled among the mountains was a giant ice castle.

From the looks and build of it, it seemed to have been built about a century after he'd woken up as Jack Frost.

How had satellites missed this? It was a thing of beauty, Jack thought as he swooped down for a closer look. Even though it looked to be 19th century and the details were impeccable, the castle itself was beautifully designed in a fractal pattern with smaller fractals within that.

His curiosity got the better of him.

"Aw, what the heck, nobody's gonna be living here anyways." It might have been a work of art, but it sure wouldn't be comfortable, as it was essentially a big block of ice. He might as well take a closer look. He landed on a balcony, with every intention of exploring the beautiful piece of work.

To Jack's knowledge, besides him and Mother Nature, there weren't any spirits with ice powers. Sure, there were legends of the Snow Queen that lured children away and froze them, but those were just that. Legends. There was the Leprechaun, Groundhog, and even Cupid. But there was no 'Snow Queen' in the spirit world.

So that begged the question: who had built this castle and how? He peeked into a room and his eyes widened when he saw hundreds of tiny snowballs turn and look at him.

What. Were. These.

…

Elsa looked up from her book when she heard a strangled voice cry out in shock.

Her brow furrowed. The voice was male, but didn't sound like Olaf.

"Get… off me!"

…And that was English. Definitely not Olaf. Scowling, Elsa sprinted up the stairs and stopped in front of the room where the little ones that appeared whenever she sneezed lived.

She stared, a little disconcerted, as they were playfully assaulting a man with white hair holding a shepherd's staff.

After blinking twice, she assumed the tone she used with unruly children. First matter: "Children! I know it's been a long time since you've played with another human, but you're basically attacking that man. Stop it this instance!"

Looking downtrodden, the little snowgies shuffled back. Elsa hated it when they looked that way, but the poor man – who looked surprisingly young considering his hair color – was barefoot on ice. Even if he had snuck into her castle, he certainly didn't deserve to freeze to death.

As Elsa approached the man – who looked more like a boy now, with his bright blue eyes wide with shock – the little snowgies made a path for her.

"Now, tell me. Who are you and how did you find this castle?" She demanded in English, because that's what the boy seemed to speak.

The first thing that came out of his mouth was a croak.

Not surprising, thought Elsa. He had just been attacked by mini snowmen. Taking pity on him, she reduced her demand to one question. She could figure out how he'd snuck into her Ice Palace later.

"What's your name?" That would be easy enough to answer. What she didn't expect the boy to answer with a question of his own.

"How can you see me?

Elsa frowned. Was this boy delirious from the cold? Where had he gotten the notion that she could not see him? Or was he still in shock from the little snowgies' playfulness?

Gently taking him by an elbow, she led him out of the room, intending to take him to a quiet and slightly warmer place. A voice broke into her thoughts, speaking English, once more.

"You still haven't answered my question."

Was he talking about how she could 'see' him? Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, Elsa humored the boy as she led him to one of the storages. She answered him in English in return, "Well, you screamed. I ran up the stairs, and saw you being, well, besieged by these little ones. And you're solid, for another." That ought to shut him up long enough for her to give him footwear and take him down the mountain to Arendelle Orphanage. She wanted to know how he got into the castle, and she couldn't do it with him catatonic from the cold. She couldn't have other random strangers wandering in and discovering centuries-old secrets.

She opened the walk-in closet – or rather room – filled with well-preserved and outdated clothes ranging from 1800's to the 80's. She could always make her own clothes, but she had liked to keep her own museum of fashion that the children she had saved had grown out of, if only for the memories.

As the boy followed her into the closet room, Elsa thought that if she were lucky, the boy would have been delirious enough to not remember her…wide…variety of clothes.

Fortunately for her, he was still stuck on his initial question.

"How can you see me? You're not supposed to see me."

Finally pulling out some rather large woolen socks that had belonged to a boy who had lived in the cusp of the 1900's, Elsa held them out to the boy behind her as she set about searching for shoes that would fit on the boy's feet. In a muffled voice, she asked, "And why, exactly, am I not supposed to see you?"

The boy stared at her as he abstractedly took the socks from her. "You're a grown up."  
At this, Elsa pulled her head out from the shoe section and stared at the boy, face screwed up with disbelief. Had this boy escaped from an asylum? Dubiously, she continued to play along, albeit a bit more sarcastically. "And what does my being a grown-up have to do with being able to see you? Put the socks on." She tacked on the last part because the boy was looking down at the woolen cloth in his hands as if not knowing what to do with it.

Yet instead of putting the socks on his feet, he crossed his arms. "Okay, this is seriously confusing."

Rolling her eyes up to the ceiling, Elsa muttered to herself in her mother tongue, "You're telling me…" and resumed her search for shoes for the snow in a suitable size. Ah, boots that had been too big for a boy going to participate in the war. Shaking her head at the rather sad memory, Elsa took them out from the shelf, and thrust them out towards the boy.

But he didn't take them, and instead stared long and hard at Elsa, as if she were an unknown specimen.

"You don't strike me as the type of grown up to believe in the Tooth Fairy. Or the Easter Bunny. Or the Sandman. Or Santa." He paused for a moment. "Or Jack Frost. Or immortal spirits in general."

Elsa almost sighed in frustration. This was going too far. Though, if Olaf and the snowgies existed, what's to say the figures from her childhood stories didn't exist? She certainly wouldn't be one for disbelief. She was immortal for goodness' sake! She would welcome the presence of other immortals!

But this boy was obviously insane, Elsa decided. So she took a risk and made a chair of ice, using snow to shove it into the back of the boy's knees to force the boy to sit.

If he had looked surprised before, it was absolutely nothing compared to now. Grabbing the woolen socks dangling limply from his hand, she gently pushed it onto his foot. Or, tried to, before he jumped up onto his feet.

He gaped at her. "What are you doing?"

Flabbergasted, Elsa answered, "Saving your toes? Did the term 'frostbite' occur to you when you invaded my palace barefoot?"

That seemed to confuse him even more. "Wait, your palace? Did you make this castle? This design has to be, what, from the 1800's?"

Now it was Elsa's turn to be taken aback. "How did you know that?"

The boy drew in a breath to reply –

"Oh Elsa! I thought I heard another voice!"

…before her friendly but supremely oblivious counterpart interrupted.

The boy turned to the snowman, then back to her with further disbelief. "Is that snowman alive?! He talked! In Norwegian!"

"Hi! I'm Olaf and I like warm hugs!" Olaf gave the boy a once over and drew back a bit, saying, "But you don't look so warm." Turning to Elsa, Olaf said, "Hey Elsa, my younger brothers said that Jokul Frosti was here – "

The boy yelped to Olaf in Norwegian, "Your younger brothers know me? Wait, wait, I mean, before that, you have younger brothers?"

"Yeah, my cute younger brothers said they saw the winter spirit Jokul Frosti and quite a few actually even managed to touch him – " Olaf looked back at the boy, and suddenly squinted. "Wait. You're Jokul Frosti." His tone sounded stuck between accusatory and awestruck.

Elsa looked on at this exchange, feeling like she was caught up in a very odd dream. Even after two hundred years' worth of working with children, she could only take so much before exploding. "WHAT is going on?" In her agitation Elsa had reverted back to Norwegian. Whirling on the boy whom Olaf and all her snowgies were claiming to be Jokul Frosti, Elsa stabbed a finger into his chest, "You! You never answered my first question. Who exactly are you?"

The boy sheepishly spread his arms and returned in slightly accented Norwegian, "Would you believe me if I said your 'Jokul Frosti' really is in this castle? And is standing right in front of you? And actually prefers to be called Jack Frost?"

Olaf immediately mashed himself against the self-proclaimed winter spirit and then proceeded to dance out of the room, chanting, "I touched Jokul Frosti! I mean- Jack Frost!"

That a teenager, who couldn't be past the age of eighteen at most, was Jokul- Jack Frost was hard to believe. But Elsa had to admit this boy had fairly strange characteristics.

He wasn't shivering, even though he was barefoot on ice. He wore nothing save a thin blue frosted sweatshirt and ragged brown pants. His staff – and who carried around a staff in this day and age? – was covered with what appeared to be frost. And his hair was pure white. Like snow.

But Elsa couldn't believe she had been worried about a winter spirit getting frostbite. She resisted the urge to cover her eyes with a hand in embarrassment. It wouldn't be a very dignified thing to do. So she would ask just one more question. The question that came out in a very timid voice.

"So… exactly how old are you?"

…

A/N: Misunderstandings are hilarious.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own neither Frozen nor Rise of the Guardians.

…

 **Frozen in Time**

…

 **Chapter 3**

…

Jack had to question the Wind's wisdom in bringing him to the ice castle. He had first been accosted by a barrage of little snowballs that could apparently sense he was Jack Frost, or some other European denomination of his name… then had a gross misunderstanding with an adult who could somehow see him and thought he was some insane teen… she also had _ice powers_ … and then a talking…snowman. That also belatedly sensed he was Jack Frost.

What had the Wind been thinking when it had brought him to this place?

A small voice asked, "So… exactly how old are you?"

Well, it seemed the anomaly of an adult seemed to believe that he Jack Frost, at least.

"I've been 18 years old for three centuries. And a year."

Her shyness was short-lived as she deadpanned, "A simple 'three-hundred-nineteen' would have sufficed."

"Yeah, but I like others to know that my biological age is forever a teen." Jack replied cheekily. Olaf the talking snowman had called the young woman Elsa. "So, Elsa, I hazard a guess that you're in college? Majoring in 19th century architecture, perhaps?"

After he voiced his educated guess, Elsa stared. Then to his great surprise, she burst out in laughter. It was a charming sound, but due to her lack of laugh lines, he guessed it wasn't a common occurrence.

Minutes later, when she was still laughing, Jack wondered out loud, "Wow, was I _that_ off mark?"

Making what looked like an enormous effort to stifle her giggling, Elsa made out, "No. Not at all." His face expression was apparently still very confused, as she broke out into a fresh fit of giggles. "I mean, yes, you were off mark. Very much so."

Jack waited for the giggles to abate before he slowly encouraged, "…So, what do you actually do?"

The last of her giggles disappeared and Elsa replied in a very put-together way that Jack found he didn't like quite as much as her giggly self, "I run Arendelle Orphanage."

Eyebrows shooting up, Jack looked at Elsa in a new light. So young and running an orphanage? "Seems like a very… responsible thing to do."

She shrugged. "It's what I have been doing for a while now."

While most of his questions had been in English, Jack noticed she replied in Norwegian. It wasn't that he minded, but there were so many dialects to keep track of…

"Say, why do you mostly answer in Norwegian when you spoke English at first?"

"Shouldn't you know the languages of the countries that believe in you by now, Jack Frost, an existence for over ' _three centuries. And a year?'_ " He heard the mocking tone in her voice as she threw his words back in his face.

"Well, I _have_ been a bit busy going around the world and making snow days for kids to have fun and relax." Jack shrugged. "Not much time to learn languages." Elsa raised an eyebrow and Jack rolled his eyes, regretting at his face slip at the appearance of the live snowman. "I just prefer to speak the language I'm most comfortable with, okay?"

Tilting her head, the platinum blonde stated rather than asked, "From your accent, I assume you're from the United States."

Cheerfully, Jack affirmed, "Yup!" But he raised a finger, "But now we're talking too much about Jack Frost and too little about Elsa… What did you say your last name was?" He knew she hadn't said her last name. In fact, she hadn't mentioned her name to him _once_ all the time when she'd been demanding his. Talk about unfair.

"My surname is Snow."

If Jack hadn't lived an extra three hundred and one years, he wouldn't have noticed that she'd answered a bit too quickly. "Elsa Snow." But as it happened to be, he _had_ , and he _did_ notice. So not only was she hiding something, she was lying as well. Ah well, he'd ferret the truth out somehow. Starting now. "Well, Miss Snow, how'd you come by your icy powers?"

Tersely, she answered, "I was born with them."

For what seemed to be the nth time that day, Jack was surprised. Powers granted by the Man in Moon, okay, understood. But born with powers? That was a first, since she was a human, unlike Sandy or Bunnymund. He'd ask North at the next Guardian meeting whether anything like this had ever happened before. A human born with powers…

But back to the matter at hand.

"So, if you aren't majoring in 19th century architecture, how are you so familiar with the structure and design? And aren't you a little young to be working already? Much less run an orphanage? You're what, twenty? Twenty-one?"

At the mention of her age, Elsa crossed her arms. A defensive posture. Ah, it seemed that age was a touchy subject for her. Jack guessed that she'd gone through the 'too young' thing more than she'd wanted to.

"I'm old enough, thank you very much. Besides, it's not a matter of age; I was an orphan too, if you must know. My sister and I –" She stopped, and pressed her lips tightly shut.

Okay, there was a taboo in those sentences as well. So, it was either being an orphan, which wasn't likely – she'd easily admitted that she ran an orphanage, so that left age – again – and a sister… whom she'd failed to extrapolate on. Probably the sister.

This Elsa 'Snow' was an interesting human. An idea occurred to Jack. "Hey, you wanna go for a ride?"

"Go for a ride?" She echoed, as if it were an alien phrase to her.

Jack smiled slyly, "You asked how I got into the castle, and I'm offering to show you."

She seemed more hesitant than mistrusting. Sometimes, what worked on children also worked on adults, so Jack goaded her, "You don't want to see Jack Frost's chosen form of transport? What, you scared?"

That seemed to have done the trick, as Elsa squared her shoulders. "Alright, let's see how great your mode of transportation really is."

Then Jack nabbed her and slung her over his shoulder and jumped onto his staff, whooping as he did so, smugness increasing with every surprised squeak Elsa let out. But her struggles _did_ impede with his balance.

"You'd better stop wriggling there, miss, or I'll accidentally drop you." Immediately, Elsa became as stiff as a board. Jack was enjoying riding the wind, but the wind wasn't taking him any further than a hundred feet from the castle, so eventually, after a few loop-de-loops that elicited a few screams, he set a significantly more disheveled Elsa down on the ice floor.

After she'd recovered, Elsa glared daggers at Jack, seething. "Jokul Frosti, how DARE you! If you'd _flown_ into my castle, you could have just _said_ so, instead of claiming to _show me_ with every intention of barbarically _throwing_ me over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes!"

Surprisingly, she was just as attractive when she was angry as when she was laughing. One would think that laughter would have been much more preferable, but Elsa's anger simply amused the spirit. This one was a spitfire, she was, despite her elegantly icy powers.

Chuckling, Jack asked rhetorically, "But where's the fun in that? I may be a winter spirit, but I'm also a Guardian of fun, you know."

When Elsa stared at him incredulously, he elaborated slowly, as if he were talking to a kindergartner, "Fun and snow. They go hand in hand. It's my job."

She looked at him with a funny face. Not funny as in amusing, but _odd_. She looked as if she were about to spill the beans on something.

Eager for more information on this mysterious girl, Jack waited. In the three hundred years after he'd died, he'd learnt that silence was unnerving – the hard way (like being ignored for three centuries). People tended to speak after a minute or two, and often they unintentionally revealed things in an effort to fill the void.

But the silence extended for longer than that. Five minutes, give or take. This was a girl wiser than most her age, Jack would give her that. Or just really stubborn.

That, or she'd learnt in a class that silence could be used as a negotiating tactic.

But eventually, she caved. The only indication of her struggle though, was the decrease in temperature. It was funny, because he got the distinct impression that she could have gone on for longer. Perhaps she'd taken politics, business, or some other cutthroat industry and had been disenchanted, and then gone on to run the orphanage?

"You claim to be a guardian of fun, but hadn't it occurred to you that _your_ idea of fun might be fatal for others?" Her dangerously quiet voice reinforced Jack's current theory. She didn't even bother asking what a Guardian was. It was like she didn't care about his job – except for finding flaws in it. Perhaps she'd been in court law. "People have frozen to death in snowstorms. Do you know how many children I've rescued from the cold over the years?" Her voice was rising. Yikes, one would think that the silence had never been there. Even if she didn't show it, he could _feel_ her anger rising through the inversely dropping temperature.

Looked like somebody was working herself into a temper.

And Jack, like anybody else who had just been accused of unintentionally murdering people, did what anybody else would do: defend himself. "Hey now, I make sure I don't cause fatal ice storms. Those storms are from Mother Nature, and even I can't control those." Jack winced; sure, he'd meant to defend himself, but he hadn't meant to blame Mother Nature. Having been forced into that blunder, he felt _his_ temper began to rise as well, resulting in a mightily low temperature between the two of them. "Besides, you should've seen this freak blizzard back two centuries ago! It was near here, come to think of it." Toss it, he had already blamed Mother Nature once, might as well blame her again. "I remember wondering if Mother Nature had finally lost it; it was supposed to be the middle of summer."

But then Jack caught Elsa stiffening ever so slightly and another theory rose to his inquisitive and occasionally active mind. "Are your powers hereditary?"

Elsa looked taken aback at this question. "What?"

"Are your powers are hereditary?" Jack repeated.

Looking honestly bewildered, Elsa answered, "…No, I don't think so."

"Neither one of your parents had them?" He pressed.

Elsa gave him a glare. "No, my parents did not have them. And it's not exactly polite to bring up parents in a conversation with somebody you know is an orphan."

But still Jack persisted. "Grandparents, then?"

She snorted. "Let's just say that I pulled the short straw when it came to meeting my predecessors." Predecessors? That was a strange way to refer to one's grandparents. After a pause, she changed the subject. "Don't you have work to do? Cause snow days, and 'protect' fun or whatever your job description is?"

Hm. She had deflected. Then completely derailed the conversation by not so subtly hinting that he should leave.

Jack vowed he would get to the bottom of this enigmatic girl's secret, but she seemed like a skittish deer. She had shown that she could be regal and even feisty at times, but still skittish over subjects she was uncomfortable with.

Swinging back up onto his staff in one smooth motion, Jack said, "Well, then, as you've said, I should go. Places to blizzard, kids to see, noses to nip. Winter hasn't hit the southern hemisphere yet."

He would leave for now, but he would be back. "See ya."

And the Wind took him.

…

Elsa almost sagged once the winter spirit had left.

He hadn't realized that she was immortal.

He hadn't realized that two centuries ago, _she_ had been the one to freeze Arendelle over.

Leaning against the railing, Elsa groaned, every fiber of her being filled with a mix of relief, regret, and resentment. _Why_ hadn't she taken the chance and told him the truth? That she was immortal? Why hadn't _he_ recognized that she was immortal? He was Jokul Frosti! Jack Frost!

Speaking of which, this sent her into another wave of despair.

First, she had thought that _Jack Frost_ would get frostbite…

Second, she had basically _accused_ him of indirectly killing people with winter…!

But his careless, playful nature that appeared after he'd recovered from his shock somehow just rubbed her the wrong way.

Which just made her angry all over again. Guardian of _fun_ indeed. Arendelle Orphanage had started out as a shelter for children who were abandoned and freezing in blizzards, basically!

A voice in the back of her mind, which sounded suspiciously like Anna, asked, ' _Can you blame the winter spirit for having fun doing his job?'_

The more cynical voice at the forefront of Elsa's mind whispered, ' _I think you're just jealous that_ he's _able to be carefree with his powers.'_

Elsa shoved both thoughts out of her mind, and deeming her 'vacation' a complete loss, snowboarded back down the mountain to Arendelle Orphanage, where one of the older orphans gave her a bemused greeting.

"Hey Elsa. Weren't you going to take the day off?"

Unwinding a scarf from her neck she wore purely for appearance's sake Elsa said glumly, "I changed my mind."

…

A/N: Don't worry Elsa, you'll have more chances. They'll just get harder and harder the more time passes.


End file.
